


Muscle Memory

by hallucane



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: F/M, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5100182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallucane/pseuds/hallucane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edér takes advantage of Brighthollow's rooms, and has a few moments to himself. Someone in particular comes to mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muscle Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Minor spoilers about Aloth below.  
> Edér fantasizes about a nondescript Watcher.  
> Not beta read.

It’d been some time since he’d wrapped his fingers around something that wasn’t his sword, or his pipe, or whatever food they’d managed to put together in Brighthollow. Edér had a room to himself. As a soldier, as a brother, that hadn’t happened much in the past, and he didn’t quite know what to do with it. Warm beds were blessing enough, but privacy? he’d nearly forgotten what privacy was like.

After a quick wash (another marvel and luxury, warm water in a bath) left him stripped and alone in that room of his, of course, his attention shifted. Palms met and pushed against himself, fingers drumming on his thighs as he tried to think on what he should be thinking about. Should he do it? It’d be no harm, and nobody would know. Stress paled before the strain of regular combat, his palms feeling rougher against the more sensitive skin than he’d remembered. Just that was enough to get his eyes closing, head tilting back with the curling warmth spreading through him. Yeah, it’d been too long.

Just one hand now, fingers curled underneath, Edér twitched his cock just to remember how nice the muscle felt when flexed. He tilted forward again to look down, to see the skin reaching out from the bush of blonde - the end of a trail that ran down his chest and over his stomach. His other hand followed that path, sifting through hair left soft from the soap he’d used. It felt nice enough. Maybe he wouldn’t need to think of anything, or anyone. Who was there? Iselmyr and Aloth? There’s a joke somewhere about two for one, but the wizard didn’t need any more complexities in his lives. Adding another body and mind probably wouldn’t help. Edér chuckled at himself, head leaned to the side. _Can’t even fantasize without being considerate,_ he thought with a grin.

His mind drifted along to the others he’d been traveling with, and to the one that’d brought them all together. The nineteenth to end up on that tree if he hadn’t talked them out of the gilded vale, or so he assured himself. Strangely enough, his cock stopped flagging at the thought of them. Edér took a minute to consider, giving himself a squeeze. Sure, there wasn’t a quiet night’s rest what with the begging and the thrashing about, but he’d stopped being bothered by the Watcher’s inability to sleep. It’d been replaced with genuine concern. He’d thought about holding them still, shushing with whispers and soft words, but that wasn’t his place - but again, maybe it could be.

Searching for a plausible train of thought, Edér brought the heel of his palm to rest at his root and tested his grip. Not too tight, but enough to feel - he wasn’t a blushing virgin or anything of the like. Slow and steady, along with his breathing, as he worked out the premise. An offer made over breakfast, to keep closer watch as the Watcher slept. To be close. Offer warmth, strong arms and a chest to curl into. He’d chuckle and wink, saying something about being able to  take a few punches. Especially if it meant everyone could get a night’s sleep in the field. The shock would come when they accept and then go on with the day, like nothing had changed.

Passing daylight would be burn with anticipation, but he wouldn’t know for what. It’s just a bit of a cuddle, didn’t have to mean anything. He’s a good man, or at least he likes to think, so holding the Watcher through the night shouldn’t be that big of a deal. In reality, his breath stops and starts, finding a terribly slow pace to keep himself full and hard without getting too far along.

Night would come, and the crew’d be chowing on stew and checking their bandages. A few eyes would linger as Edér made his way into the Watcher’s tent, but they’re all adults. As habit would dictate, Edér would start shucking off his shirt and pants, which the Watcher would, well… watch. His cheeks might get a little dusted, warm against the blonde of his beard, but he’d play it off. Arms open. Between the two of them, someone would say something, and their leader would step into his arms, into him, and he’d wrap those arms around them. They’d make it to the bedroll, warm and surprisingly cozy. Edér gripped himself a bit harder, rolling his lower lip under his teeth.

Curled together, maybe there’d be a bit of shifting to get things settled right, which’d wake him up. Maybe they’d feel it. Maybe they’d planned it, rubbing their backside against his front. The details get a little hazy. his mind skips a few beats, kissing, hands on skin, and then he’s somehow inside, grip warm and tight as he moves his arm faster, fingers rubbing knuckles in some pulsing rhythm that bows his back, curls his toes. He’d kiss the Watcher’s neck, soothe with soft words like they’d planned, hands roaming over their front and holding their hips as he rolls himself deeper and deeper into them. Air cuts off as he curls over his spurting cock, eyes shut hard and jaw clenched. It comes like a popping cork, and then a flood, running over his fingers and splattering onto his chest and thighs. The blinding force of it lasts a bit longer than he’d remembered, which he can’t imagine complaining about. Once the pulsing stops, he lets his grip go, not even wiping his hands off before he lets himself fall back on the bed.

Maybe he really should call their leader over during breakfast tomorrow. Have a conversation, make a suggestion. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he could. Edér smiled at the thought, fingers stroking lazily over his messy stomach.

 


End file.
